Dissolution
by Harlecat
Summary: It is the very definition of bittersweet.
1. Chapter 1

PART ONE

_Nothing's real until you let go completely_

_…_

_Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers_

_But I know it's never really over_

_\- "Sober" by Kelly Clarkson_

* * *

"Okay, well, I'm off." Her hand brushes against the doorknob.

"Is it something that talking to your dad won't help?"

She turns back, surprised, smiling reassuringly. "Why do you ask?" Her father looks at her, and she laughs, feeling hollow. "Really, I just didn't want to eat this morning." He's still looking at her. "That's all."

"After your mother's funeral, it took some time before you were able to eat breakfast again too, right?"

Her smile fades. He rises and come to hold her, saying more words in a comforting tone, and she was surrounded by his faded shirt and the smell of safety. It did nothing for the chasm in her chest.

* * *

"Haruhi?"

She pauses in her anguish to look up from the ground in front of her, and meets two identical pairs of eyes. They look back and see a girl in a dirty white dress with messy hair. When last they saw her, she was crying out and racing away. She was a girl ferocious. Now she is a girl forlorn.

Kaoru's eyes widen with understanding and Hikaru furrows his brow. "Where's…" His brother puts his hand on his shoulder and he says nothing else. She looks back to the ground and keeps walking.

"Hey, wait up!"

* * *

"I can't believe you lost the carriage," Hikaru complains loudly. "How do you lose a carriage? And now we have to walk the whole way back?"

"Hikaru," Kaoru says shortly.

"There were horses on that carriage," he goes on. "Who's gonna feed the horses? Huh? Tell me-"

"I'm sure the horses will be fine," Hikaru.

Haruhi hitches up her dress and walks faster.

* * *

Six people sat in a room, and ignored one of the empty chairs. Haruhi was on her knees rubbing dirt off her face.

_I wasn't quick enough. Why wasn't I fast enough? Why wasn't I faster? Why couldn't I catch him? Why couldn't I- Why didn't I- How could-_

"Haruhi," Kyoya says, moving towards the window. "That'll be enough."

She looks up with cracks in her eyes, and he turns away. There is silence.

"So…" Honey starts. "What does that mean-"

"It doesn't mean anything," Kyoya snaps. "We can't offer the princely package anymore, that's all there is to it."

"But-"

"He's right," Haruhi said, standing up. "That's… all there is to it, really."

Honey turns to her with wide eyes.

"We don't need Tamaki," she said firmly, then looked down at herself. "Where's my change of clothes?"

* * *

Haruhi doesn't do anything anymore. She works to stay at Ouran. She works to stay a host. She does this because she likes Ouran, and likes being a host. She isn't quite sure why. She can't even remember what liking something is supposed to feel like. But she says she does, so she must like it.

Breakfast isn't _really_ important, not if you aren't hungry. She eats lunch and dinner because she knows she needs at least two meals, but she doesn't want her breakfast. She just doesn't.

She doesn't understand things. Why people around her find joy in the simplest things. Why a trip to the supermarket is _fun_ or why saving cash is _great_. She tells herself it's because all these dumb rich folk have rubbed off on her. She is wrong.

There are some things she doesn't like to think about, like the fast-approaching end of the school year, like graduation. She doesn't want the rest of the club to graduate, to be left in the dust with Hikaru and Kaoru. She wants to play house a little while longer.

The fair was a resounding success. The club has more guests than ever before. Hikaru looks at her with sparkling eyes and says, _"Hey, boss, what should we do with this leftover tea?"_

"Just pour it out."

* * *

One day, to dramatic announcements and oohs from a crowd, the twins jump up on top of a table and announce to their guests that a long-awaited day has, finally, arrived. A crowd is gathered around one of the couches and Mori takes Haruhi by the shoulders, steers her over, and sits her down.

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on?!"

"Ladies and gentleman!" Hikaru cries out. "Our honored boss will now do what he has never done before! That's _right!_ Haruhi Fujioka… _is going to eat some tuna!_"

_Oh, for hell's sake…_

"It has been specially prepared by some of the finest chefs in the world!" he shouts, still standing on a table.

"Get off that table," Haruhi says. "You're going to fall over."

"What? No _way_! It is fresh and chilled! It is _delicious_! And now, for the first time in your life, he is going to _eat it_! Honey! _Go get the tuna_!"

A girl raises her hand. "So… Haruhi's never had tuna before?"

Kaoru shakes his head. "Not the fancy kinda, no. He eats commoner tuna."

"Fun fact," Hikaru calls out. "Haruhi _first_ joined this club because he owed us roughly… some money. How much was it, Kyoya?"

"Eight million yen, I believe."

"Hikaru, I don't want your tun-"

"Eight _million_ yen! Obviously, since he's a commoner, he couldn't pay. For awhile he was really fed up with everything and actually thought about quitting and working their debt off some other way, so we had to bribe Haruhi with fancy tuna to keep working!"

"And now Haru-chan's the best host ever!" Honey marches over with a plate of tuna, sliced and arranged in a flower-like pattern. "Right, Haru-chan?"

"Look, guys-"

"And now that he won't quit, we can give him his tuna! Kaoru! A drumroll!"

"Guys, I'm not actually hungry!"

Honey offers Haruhi a fork. "Here, Haru-chan!"

"Okay, okay, _fine._" She snatches the fork from him and spears a bite of tuna, then swallows it without even chewing.

"Nonono," Hikaru turns to look at her. "You're supposed to savor it."

"_Fine!"_ She takes another bite and chews, slowly and deliberately. "There, see? I'm _savoring _it."

"And?"

Haruhi paused, and swallowed "... And it tastes it's tuna."

He stares at her.

"I don't really see what the big deal is."

_"I think Haruhi's in a bad mood today,"_ one of the guests whispers.

_"I think you're right."_

_"He's been really bitter lately."_

She forces a smile onto her face. "It's not half bad, but it seems like regular tuna to me. I guess I just don't see what all the fuss was about."

After the business day has ended, Haruhi is packing her bags, when a voice interrupts her.

"Haruhi."

She blinks, taking a little too long to realize she's been spoken to. Then she grins and looks up.

"Oh, hey, Kyoya. I didn't see you there."

He stands with his hands on the back of a chair, without expression. The sunset shines in through the window and bounces off of his glasses, straight into Haruhi's eyes.

"I hope you don't take us for fools."

"Huh?"

He looks at her and she can't see his eyes, or what he's thinking.

"I… don't understand, senpai."

She can't tell if he's looking at her.

"You once salivated at the very mention of tuna. Only an idiot could fail to notice the obvious change you've gone through."

"I just have different priorities," she says, rolling her eyes and shoving a textbook in her bag. "Besides, it tasted like normal, everyday tuna. There was nothing special about it!"

"But there was, Haruhi. I've tried your commoner's tuna. There's a clear difference. You failing to taste it is just another example of your change."

"I _don't know what you're talking about_."

"I spoke with your father recently. He says you aren't eating breakfast."

"Breakfast is overrated."

"Hmph. If you say so. Well, remember to lock up."

"Yeah."

"And do take care of yourself, Haruhi."

* * *

"I really thought it would work," Hikaru shakes his head, his hair falling into his face.

"Me too," Kaoru comforts him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't feel bad, Hika-chan." Honey looks up with endearing eyes. "We all wanted Haruhi to feel better."

* * *

Haruhi never realizes anything is wrong. One day she suddenly thinks of Tamaki, and it's like her world has collapsed. She wonders if this is what a heart attack feels like, and if she is having one. She does not understand what is occurring. He slides into her head and it's like heartburn, but a thousand times worse. She hates herself for thinking of him, and hates that she hates herself for that. And most of all she hates the aching inside of her. It's always there, never gone, its dulls and sharpens, and it consumes her.

Until one day it doesn't.

She doesn't notice until even more time has passed, and he slips back into her thoughts, and that's when she realizes, she's eating her breakfast again, she isn't thinking about him, and she sits for a good hour remembering the look on his face when they played hide and seek, and it's like the bottom of her stomach has fallen out. It is that night it occurs to Haruhi that she isn't thinking about him.

And then she hates herself for _not_ thinking about him. She hates herself for the way she's forgotten to miss him, for the way she's moved on. Until she stops.

It's wretched that she can say she missed him, _past tense,_ and it's wretched that she can feel relief at moving on. Wretched, wretched, wretched.

Fancy tuna is the _best thing in the world._

* * *

"How do you feel, Haruhi?"

"I feel fine."

* * *

**A/N:** In case it isn't clear, the general idea is Haruhi didn't make it to the bridge in time to stop Tamaki and he is no longer in Japan. I feel like "Sober" by Kelly Clarkson is a nice companion to this. There will be a few more chapters (hopefully), and I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

Once they held hands on a cold park bench and now they do the same on the side of a bed, not meeting eyes and looking at the floor.

They do not feel the same but they understand. They are close enough. At this point they might always be. They are cursed with similarity, after all.

One thing they always had in common were their priorities. Their focus was always on the same person. It tended to be Hikaru. Not to say he was selfish, or arrogant, he just cared about himself a bit more than necessary. Kaoru also cared about him a bit more than necessary so it wasn't much of an issue. When Haruhi came into the picture she became a new focus but the most important person to Kaoru was always Hikaru. Perhaps while he had learned to open himself up, all Kaoru did was forget to lock the doors.

He had watched while Hikaru blossomed, and if this had been spring, then the winter before had been cold. He had watched while Hikaru turned icy to anyone who spoke to him and the way he froze their fingertips. Yes, fall had been lovely, and spring had been bright, but the winter had been barren. And just what was this?

That wasn't the point, though. There was no wondering what the hell life was supposed to be when it turns itself on it's head and rights itself when you've started to prefer things this way. Kaoru understood. He knew Hikaru had loved his upside down world far more than Kaoru ever could. And he knew who had been responsible for that, who had pulled him outside and shoved him into the sunlight. It didn't matter that he'd threatened to take it all away. What mattered was that he was _gone._

Hikaru never understood people, and he probably never would. But people understood him. Sometimes it seemed like figuring him was all too easy.

Once he had thought he needed only himself and someone like him. That only certain people had feelings that mattered and the world around him was dismal and and the people were just puppets of bone.

_Thank you._

He had been proven wrong.

But then, the world had to be a cruel place in the end. Tamaki left and Haruhi stopped smiling. Even Kyouya seemed a bit more bitter. And of course, with the disappearance of their high, mighty king came the loss of guests.

_Thanks a lot._

* * *

Kyouya had heard it said that you should be grateful for the time you have when you are happy. No matter how short, no matter how heartbroken you are when it ends, you should turn your eyes to the sky and thank the world for letting you have that one brief time. After all, that was more than some people had. Even if you only had a day. And God knows his few years was much, much more than the happiness many experienced. He also knew that things hadn't quite ended, he still had his time in school, the club still remained, but it was clear that something was missing from everything.

But even when a picture isn't complete, you should be grateful that you have it.

He had also heard that when you care about someone you ought to tell them before they're gone, or else they might never know. You should tell them before it's too late.

He disregarded both these things.

* * *

"You're feeling sad too, aren't you, Takashi?"

He nods from the ground below him and Honey swings his feet back and forth. "Me too. I'm sorry, Takashi."

"S'okay."

"No it isn't. You don't have to pretend to feel okay. You're not trying to, are you?"

"I dunno. Don't think so."

"Good." He pauses and looks out at the sky. "True strength is being yourself, you know."

* * *

Business is business and business is _bad_. Oh, it's not _awful_, no, it's not really that bad, but it's just not as good. A variable is missing from her equation and without the princely type things just aren't proper.

Renge's first order of business is to see if Kyouya or Haruhi can be trained to take his place, but Haruhi is too red in the face and Kyouya lets off the aura of a shark disguised as a dolphin. Mori doesn't talk enough. Honey is too young. She'd try to swap Hikaru over, but he's too rude, and Kaoru is too quiet, and if they get split up then half their charm disappears. Honestly, those two are joined at the hip. She's spoken to them when the other's not around, and it's the most insane experience she's ever had. They pause midway through their sentences and tell jokes that aren't funny.

When business is bad, though, nothing is that funny.

* * *

If there is fulfillment, then there is also unfulfillment. It is logic.

There is walking down the hall and seeing him smile more at her than you, even when he doesn't mean it. There is the feeling in your gut when your voice rises, exhilarating, and consuming, and a monster inside of you. There's the look on his face when you snap.

He takes everything you say to him like a knife to the back. He takes it all in stride, but his eyes cave in. And still, he smiles. He takes it all in smiles. You envy that.

There is something romantic about him, and you realize now that's all there is. He's nothing but a romantic story and a passing notion. You try to take the time to know him but underneath the charm is a child, a toddler even, perhaps even a loyal dog. He runs around for love and scratches under the chin, he wants his dessert, and he wants attention, and when you snap, he doesn't dare bark, he only whimpers.

For awhile, it is amusing. And then you begin to hate him. You can't look at him without seeing him as he is at other times. When he looks ready to cry, you think of his always present smile and begin to get irritated. When he laughs, you remember when he was near tears and want to scream. He's never the right mood for you. A ring that's the wrong color.

Get him out, you think, when he enters the room. Get _me_ out.

Soon you can't stand him. You start pretending to be sick, and when that gets tedious, you actually sneak out of your home.

You've reeled him in, you tell yourself. If you don't want it, throw him back in the water.

You are unfulfilled.

You seethe.

You break things off because if you don't do it soon, you'll break him.


End file.
